Music is Love in Search of a Word
by RoseMuse
Summary: In which Edward Elric adjusts to small-town life and finds out a few things about Winry. Post manga - SPOILERS.


_(In which Ed adjusts to Risembool life and finds out a few things about Winry. Post manga - SPOILERS.) (Done for the prompt 'Sing' - hence the title.) :)_

* * *

In the weeks since he and Al had returned home, things had been… interesting.

He was gradually growing used to his arm - he didn't know the limits of its strength, or how sensitive it was to pain. At times, if he had been sitting still for a long while, he'd forget about it, and then it would surprise him - the movement and feeling of the muscles and the much lighter weight.

Al was regaining his strength surprisingly well. (He'd come a long way from hobbling around on braces and living on a liquid diet, anyway.) (Although, he did still frequently wake up in the middle of the night complaining about growing pains or other weird things his body was doing that Ed _really_ didn't care to know about.) He was now taking walks every day with Den, eating the Rockbells out of house and home with a voracious appetite and sleeping practically ten or more hours a day. For the most part, he seemed pretty content with his situation.

Ed, on the other hand, felt restless. Over the years, he'd grown used to constantly moving from place to place, and it was taking a considerable amount of adjustment in not doing so.

He'd forgotten the slower-paced lifestyle of Risembool, and the quietness, and it was difficult for him to shrug off his nagging feelings of anxiety when he actually didn't have anything to worry about.

(Well… Aside from worrying over Granny Pinako and Winry loading him with chores and housework when he complained about having nothing to do…) (Which was another matter in and of itself. It was absolutely infuriating, at times, being unable to use alchemy to easily fix up a problem. Another thing he would have to grow used to.)

It gave him a lot more time to think, though - and… he grudgingly had to admit to himself that it was rather nice.

He also found himself observing things more.

At first, he'd thought he would easily grow sick of seeing the same sights everyday, but… there were little things and changes, and he began to find himself immersed in the small-town life.

How the mud puddle in the middle of the road, that he'd remembered from childhood, had been filled in with gravel. The front steps of the Rockbells' house - which never used to be so creaky. The familiar blue, flower-patterned ceramic cups - one sitting precariously atop Al's bedpost as his brother flipped through the pages of a book on Xingese culture. Or how Granny Pinako usually took a smoke break after lunch - the back porch smelled like stale tobacco. Or the pungent scent of cows and pastures after it rained. The old oak tree on the Reiners' farmland, that Al, Ed, and Winry used to climb, had been struck by lightning two years ago and it had been chopped down.

It was so odd, going into town while running errands - people would recognize him, (The comments of "Oh, look how you've grown!" weren't all that bad.), but he honestly couldn't remember some of the peoples' names or faces to save his life. A few of the looks he got were even stranger - most people had heard that, before enlisting in the military, he and his younger brother had gotten into some sort of accident about six years ago and their house had burned down not soon after. (And, apparently, the boys had gotten into all sorts of trouble - with their no-good father gone and their mother dead - spending so much time away from Risembool.) Ed never elaborated upon the details - simply saying that he'd overestimated his abilities with something and lost his leg - and that Al was just fine and the Rockbells had been a significant help to them.

People stopped asking questions after a while.

The grass was growing quickly on Hohenheim-his father's grave, next to the slightly more weatherworn grave of his mother.

Ed finally learned how to drive using the old truck out back - which sent everyone else into gales of hilarity as he clumsily tried to figure out the different gears and how to use the clutch. (Until Winry finally clambered in and shoved him aside, much to his annoyance, and attempted to show him. Which resulted in a small shouting match about how obnoxious and overbearing some mechanics could be and why would he need a car, anyway? He liked walking better and maybe it wouldn't be so complicated if you didn't try to explain out every little detail about how a car is built.)

He also began noticing a lot of things about Winry.

Not that he hadn't noticed things before. Well. Y'know, they'd grown up together, and she'd done a fair amount of traveling with them, and… Anyway. It was just tiny things.

Ed had returned her earrings, and she had seemed somewhat surprised that he'd kept them for so long. She told him she'd been thinking about letting the piercings grow out, and he'd felt strangely… disappointed, even though she still held on to the earrings.

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, he'd shuffle to the kitchen for a glass of water, and find that she was still up, tinkering with a random bit of automail at her workbench, long blonde hair pulled back beneath a kerchief and the band of her welding goggles, wearing a black, zip-up tube-top, her coveralls tied at the waist. (Of course, he wouldn't admit it, but he did sometimes notice what she wore, okay?) She'd stop for a bit and they would chat - about how she didn't quite feel like going back to Rush Valley, yet, (although she missed it very much), and that Granny Pinako needed her help, here, as the old lady was kind of getting on in age. Perhaps she would just stay on here, anyway, and continue the family business. She wasn't very sure yet.

And Ed would muse over his plans - mostly half-formed ideas. Maybe going back to work for Mustang. (The bastard would probably never be able to get too far without his help, anyway.) He wanted to travel, too. Study more about alchemy and alkahestry outside of Amestris, as well - even in spite of the fact that he could no longer use the skills.

The conversation would usually dwindle off awkwardly, and Ed would realize how close he was sitting to Winry, and he would then pretend to yawn and amble off to bed.

Although, once he'd gotten to his room , the conversation would keep re-playing in his mind and thoughts and images whirled around his head and he simply wouldn't be able to fall asleep.

He'd actually remembered that she didn't like cauliflower, but hadn't known that she didn't like asparagus, either. When he teased her about it, though, she dumped milk in his soup.

He hadn't noticed that he was getting taller, but she insisted that he was and was always checking up on his automail leg and making adjustments.

She was also always telling him not to get so full of himself over it.

He didn't know that she sent letters, about every other week, to Mrs. Hughes and Elicia. Not really about anything in particular, just life and how everyone was doing. Winry showed him her collection of Elicia's crayon drawings from corresponding letters, hanging up in her room. Elicia was about five, now - starting school soon and just as ridiculous, quick-witted and big-hearted as her father.

She called Paninya and Mr. Garfiel quite often, as well, (and even Hawkeye, sometimes!) (She also insisted that he and Al should be polite and call the Curtises on a regular basis.)

Winry, apparently, enjoyed hanging up wildflowers to dry in the windows. ("Because," she retorted when he asked her why she found dead flowers to be an attractive ornamentation, "sometimes I like nice things over grease and automail and you and Als' smelly, old socks.")

So, on the way back from a trip to town, he spontaneously picked her a bunch. He… didn't really know why, and he half-contemplated just tossing them a few times on the way home. Unexpectedly, she actually accepted them quite happily, although she had to make it clear to him that Mrs. Friedman's gladiolus did _not_ qualify as wildflowers.

After that, Al kept giving them weird looks. Ed wasn't exactly sure why. Well. All right. He was aware of it and he did kind of know why.

It didn't help things when Al would nudge him with a lanky elbow and wiggle his eyebrows, or, (and he knew Al just did this sort of thing to get on his nerves), even right-out asking him why he and Winry weren't going out. In the middle of dinner.

Even Pinako was beginning to seem somewhat annoyed by the awkwardness between the two.

It was a good question. Why _wasn't _he going out with Winry, yet? He'd always been so busy, so caught up in the events of the past few years, that he hadn't had time to really think about things like this. And, also, he was probably being a bit of a wuss.

Winry was brilliant - and brave. She always surprised him with her inner strength, and had always been there for him through some of his most difficult times - and he could only hope that he'd been able to reciprocate being there for her. Seeing her cry, or struggle through something that was so difficult… It felt painful for him, too - and he understood pain all too well.

She didn't take no for an answer and she could be incredibly stubborn - but he didn't really mind it all that much. (No matter how much they argued or he complained.) Whenever he was around her he felt… happier.

Growing up, Winry had always been there with the brothers - wading through creeks to catch tadpoles, having mud fights and playing kick-ball behind the school. Her wind-blown hair bobbed short and tangled with twigs and leaves. And, although she'd grown up over the years, Ed thought she'd _always_ been really beautiful.

Yeah… she could be a little scary, but she was also funny and sweet, and she cared so much about the people close to her…

In his travels he'd met a lot of girls. Many had been pretty, and smart and interesting, but he had never really given any of them a second look. In all his seventeen years, the only one he'd ever considered… well… _liking_… had been Winry.

It had always been Winry.

But he didn't just like her… He loved her.

One afternoon, he marched himself down to Winry's workshop with a whole list of things he'd planned to say at the back of his mind, however, he stopped suddenly when he reached the door.

It was half-open and a radio was blaring a fast-paced swing-music tune… and Winry was singing along.

He couldn't really recall if he'd _ever _heard her sing, before, and, inexplicably, he found himself laughing over the strangeness of it.

Winry immediately stopped and turned to face him, face bright red and fists clenched. (And he knew, in a moment, she'd be reaching for that wrench of hers.) "Ugh, what the hell, Ed?" She snapped, "What's so funny?"

"N-nothing!" He reassured her hastily. "You just… never seemed like the singing type."

She was still frowning, "And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"It's… uh. Well, I don't think I've ever heard you sing, before." Ed drew his brows together as he spoke, "Y-you sounded kind of nice."

Winry's face softened, "Oh. Really? Um. Thanks." Her cheeks were still pink. "I bought a new radio… So I could listen while I work."

He looked over at the appliance, nodding approvingly, "Yeah. It's pretty nice." His mind had gone blank and he'd pretty much forgotten what it was that he'd intended to say.

For a moment, neither one of them spoke, the music still playing in the background. Then Ed, wincing, broke the silence between them.

"So. You like this type of music?"

"It is pretty catchy." Winry nodded.

"So you'd want to hear more of it?" Ed asked.

"I… guess so?" Winry looked slightly confused.

"Hmm. It's also pretty good for dancing to. Don'tcha think?" He continued.

Winry rolled her eyes. "What exactly are you trying to get at, Ed?"

He looked away from her and shoved his hands into his pockets, shrugging. He tried to ignore the feeling of his face growing hot, "Tonight. There's a dance tonight at the community hall… I kinda hate dancing, but… but… Er. Um. Would you want to go?"

When he looked back at Winry, again, she was blinking owlishly up at him.

She didn't answer, so he gathered up what little remaining courage he had and repeated the question, "Do you want to go with me to the dance, tonight, Winry?"

"On a date?" She asked incredulously after a moment.

"Um. Okay. Sure. I guess so." Ed answered clumsily, with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. What if she didn't want to go? It hadn't occurred to him what he'd say if she said no. Although, why would she say no? Her schedule seemed to be free, this week. He knew she didn't care for any other guy (in fact, in all the time he'd known her, she hadn't really ever gone out on dates with anyone.) So… maybe she… kind of… liked him a bit? Or maybe she just didn't like going on dates. Did she even like guys? But wait… What about the time she spent in Rush Valley? Had she met someone there? He was going to clobber the unsuspecting asshole!

Winry punched him in the arm, suddenly, breaking him out of his thoughts. "It's about time you asked me, you idiot!"

He stared at her in bewilderment.

"Although," She remarked, looking as though she were hiding a smile, "If it had gone on any longer, I think I would have probably just asked you out, myself."

"Wha?" Ed wondered, utterly befuddled and rubbing at his smarting arm.

"What I mean is," Winry took his hands in hers and leaned forward to kiss his cheek, "Yes. I'll go on a date with you. I would love to."

When he left the room, he felt as though he was… walking on clouds, or something.

Winry resumed her singing once he'd left. She really did (kind of) have a nice voice.

He smiled to himself.

Ed had just found that, perhaps, he had a very good reason to stay a while longer, here.


End file.
